


cream flan

by rackam



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Aoidos being a disaster gay, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rackam is 100 percent done, mentions of dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 21:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16710682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rackam/pseuds/rackam
Summary: Aoidos and Rackam make a trip to Bistro Feendrache.





	cream flan

**Author's Note:**

> (cracks fingers) the rackam content isn't going to write itself
> 
> here's some rackaoidos / aoidam (?) shy rackam who doesn't know what to do with Aoidos, knowing he's stuck with him, but wouldn't want it any other way

The stone brick decorated itself across the small city, lush flowers lining the small market stalls with flashy trinkets, light painting a verdant hue hidden within the cracks. Aoidos squinted, focusing not to trip his heel.

He’d been like this for the past hour, glaring at the rubble as if he were stepping on manure. He disliked summer, which was fast approaching, and wished the paveway wasn’t so long. But he was willing to overlook it, just for today.

“Ah, here we are.” Aoidos sighed happily, finally standing in front of the entrance. “Ready to go, Vermillios?”  
  
“It’s _Rackam_ to you—how many times do I need to say it?” Rackam hissed, although he was looking forward to this. They’d finished another practice session—or rather, Aoidos continually pestering him about holding the right strings to a bass while piloting the Grandcypher. Aoidos insisted a break was necessary, saying it’d cleanse his mind a bit, wanting to visit the Bistro Feendrache.

Read like a book, Rackam caught the hint. Aoidos wanted to go on a date with him.

The restaurant was open, booming with customers, and seeing the shop as lively as Captain described it was a little relieving, given the cooking festival held previously.

From low, pitiful, and nearly out of business into a five-star gourmet establishment, it proved Captain was able to do anything with their mind set to it. Almost unsurprising, given it’s their crew, Rackam had little doubt in their success. He made a small chuckle at the thought of Vyrn holding a knife to his tail, chopping vegetables as effortlessly as how he drums.

Hearing Aoidos calling him, Rackam forgot about the nuisance stuck to his own tail, and stepped into the shop.

-

Aoidos let out a hum, reading the menu, “Which option do you choose?”  
  
Rackam tried to answer, recalling what Captain had mentioned about their cuisine trip with the Dragon Knights. Each of the dishes had some eccentric ingredient—and knowing Aoidos, anything could happen—so he sought whichever one seemed the least dangerous.  
  
They were seated in the back of the establishment, next to the windows, from where Rackam could barely peek into a corner of the chef's kitchen. Aoidos seemed to be enjoying the view. His guitar perched on the side of his chair—he wouldn’t leave without it no matter how many times Rackam protested, saying it’d be ridiculous as they weren’t fighting anywhere.

Well, it was better than having a gun, which Rackam had stored in the back of his sleeve (for safety purposes).

Looking around, the room was very bright. Orange, golden walls luminescent against the blue sky, reflected golden light seeping through the windows. The bar nearby was bustling, active folk laughing briskly while taking swigs. The drinks likely had extravagant flavors, too, though Rackam preferred drinking at night. The flowers on the table were a nice touch, rosy and flourished, and he wondered how Aoidos would look wearing one.

Looking at the menu again, he settled for the rich and creamy flan dish, apparently made from basilisk eggs.

“Just a moment,” the waiter chirped, leaving the pair to themselves. The waiter returned with a plate decked with lavish cream flan, laced with a caramel sauce, small leaves adding color. Rackam couldn’t wait to try it, until he noticed there was only one plate.

“I apologize, we currently only have enough for one serving,” the waiter began, “would you like an alternative dish?”

 _Guess we’re sharing, then._ Rackam didn’t mind. “No, it’s fine.”

The waiter gave a light nod, placing another spoon on the table. “Please enjoy.”

With the waiter gone, Rackam looked to Aoidos, nodding—wanting him to have the first bite. Aoidos beamed, taking the spoon and dipping it into the flan.

Everything was going calm, it seemed, until Aoidos spotted a couple seated nearby.

 _...An enticing stage act,_ he paused. A little sappy, but he could use it somehow.

Idea popped into his head mid-bite, Aoidos turned to Rackam.

“Vermillios, here, on the top!” Aoidos held the spoon to his face, “Say, _Aah~_ ”

Rackam froze, dumbfounded.

He could _really_ use a break right now.

He didn’t know which was more baffling—the fact Aoidos willingly offered to feed him in public (probably as his way of being witty) or if he was that blissfully ignorant of the implications behind it.

Rackam narrowed his eyes, figuring it’d be useless, but decided to ask anyway, “What are you doing?”

“A test,” Aoidos chirped, “I want to see how you react.”

“Why—nevermind.” He didn’t want to know.

Rackam would never admit it, but he found it slightly cute. Aoidos often went out of his way in helping the band—finding new, fresh sources of entertainment, even if they were ridiculous as right now.

It was strange, how Aoidos drew so much out of him, convinced him to do so many things he’d probably look back in utter embarrassment.

He felt his lips slowly parting anyway, starving off his better judgement.

Aoidos pushed the spoon into his mouth, and Rackam made a fulfilled noise, eyebrows rising. He couldn’t deny the flan was delicious, the taste warm and gentle on his tongue—this was a resemblance of Vane’s cooking, after all.

The tinge of blush on Rackam’s face was more gratifying than any stage idea Aoidos had planned. Aoidos wasn’t one for cute things, but he felt himself bubbling in delight from this view. It took every ounce of him not to melt on the spot. The silky, smooth texture fueling the other’s senses. Aoidos picked up the slight (but carefully hidden) glee on his face.

In other words, Rackam was adorable.

He’d forgotten the spoon still lodged in his mouth. Aoidos slipping it out gently, not wanting any flan to spill. “How is it?”

Rackam swallowed, astonished.

“How... is that even attainable?” He stared down at his plate, watching a portion of the pastry go missing as Aoidos tried his own serving, scooping a bit of caramel sauce into his bite.

“The gods have blessed me today,” Aoidos let out a satisfied groan, sitting back in his seat, Rackam noticed he was using the same spoon. “Whoever made this has divine culinary skill.”

 _Yeah, no kidding._ Rackam figured the flan would be at least somewhat pleasant, but this was remarkable. He gestured at the spoon, taking another bite for himself before Aoidos had any other ideas, revelling the sweet, thin coat of sugar topped with creamy tart. _How’d they make this with a basilisk egg?_

He’d ask Captain once they went back, noting to bring an extra order for Lyria.

At times like this, Rackam was able to forget most of his work, idling with Aoidos in the few hours of his break. Most of his complaints were just banter, as he didn’t mind Aoidos’ company. They’d ramble about nothing, of their pathos-centered band, about the recent wave of monsters in spring, his past in Golonzo (a request from Aoidos).

It’s too late to call it friendship, though. Aoidos had grown on him.

“With the upcoming festival and our new performance, I figured maybe the audience would like a duet play, where you and I dance—are you listening?” Aoidos glanced up, seeing Rackam had already eaten most of the flan.

Rackam hadn’t noticed Aoidos speaking, mind a little too lost in the filling.

-

"You mean we’d _what_ now?!”

“Shh, not so loud.” Aoidos waved his hand, “It’d bring an emotional drive from the audience.”

“Forget it,” Rackam near stormed off, heading back to the Grandcypher, “I am _not_ dancing with you!”

“Well, not necessarily.” Aoidos watched him stumble over a brick, his face glowing crimson, “You’d be leaning under me while I hold you into a dip near the encore.”

Rackam let out a small groan.

“That doesn’t change anything! I’d still be, er-” _Embarrassed. He’d be embarrassed._ The thought of Aoidos gently holding him by the waist on stage sent a rush through his entire body. To boot, he couldn’t even dance.

“...Rackam.”

He stopped walking. That’d been the first time he heard his name all day.

Aoidos leaned in, sneaking a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for the small treat. I enjoyed it.”

Rackam covered his face in a deep sigh. He didn’t know what to do with a handful like Aoidos.

Aoidos was persistent in his goals, each time inviting Rackam to take part—planning musical events and leading the tour as a band, wanting his genuine input in their process, welcoming him in open arms. A delicate warmth sprinkling among both flames, into their relationship, Aoidos slowly recovering his memories little by little—and in exchange, Rackam slowly learning to embrace himself.

He’d never admit it, especially not now, but he was thankful for it.

**Author's Note:**

> Aoidos: eat this  
> Rackam, in his head: What am I gonna do? Say no??
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this and if you enjoyed this silly fic at least somewhat I'd be more than happy
> 
> if you want you can yell at me on twt @tashauniel


End file.
